Because Occlumency Is Important
by completelyensnarryed
Summary: OOTP. Takes place during OotP, right after Snape smashes Harry's potion. hp/ss. Occlumency lessons. Detentionfic. Umbridge-bashing. Warning for slash: If you don't know what slash is, if you don't like slash, do not read this story. Also, do not read if you do not like Harry, Snape, or snarry.


"Whoops," he said softly. "Another zero, then, Potter."

Harry Potter eyed the broken flask on the floor.

_He is right, you know,_said a small voice from somewhere inside him.

Not about the flask now lying at his feet; that was just Severus Snape being mean and petty.

But the blame did not lie completely on Snape, and Harry understood that much.

He, Harry, had in fact looked uninvited into a Pensieve, violating Snape's privacy. If he wanted to watch the man's embarrassing memories, he need only show up for Occlumency lessons. Snape had plenty to share. And most of them involved his father, Harry thought with chagrin.

James Potter was a bully; and what was worse was that deep down inside, Harry had convinced himself that Snape somehow asked for it, somehow deserved everything he got – every nasty trick the Marauders played on him.

James Potter was just like Dudley Dursley and Dudley was a mean prat who picked on little kids just because he was bigger than they were and he could make them cry.

And Harry Potter defended him.

It was wrong. Snape may have been a git, but he did not deserve what James Potter did to him.

He still did not quite understand why he looked into that _thing._ It wasn't exactly taunting him. It just stood on Snape's desk, like always, at every lesson. Snape didn't even bother to hide it from him after he put his memories in it for their lessons. Just let it stay there. As though he was certain that Harry would not look. That he could _trust_ Harry.

That hurt. It wasn't supposed to, but it did. He betrayed Snape's trust. It was nearly funny. He didn't realize he cared.

And now that he thought of it, hadn't the man done his damnedest to protect Harry since Harry's first year? Against insane Voldemort followers, escaped convicts, and even Voldemort himself? Or tried to, anyway. Few things get in Voldemort's way, but Snape did his best to do so even while appearing antagonistic.

The potion was trickling out of the broken neck of the phial lying on the floor, and Harry did not need to summon much courage at all to look up at his Potions professor. Snape was sneering at him, as though daring him to disagree with his decision.

Harry knew he had no chance of outsmarting Snape; Snape was feeling vengeful. Besides, the man is a Legilimens; he'd see a lie coming at him like the Hogwarts Express.

So he will just be honest. Surely even Snape cannot fault him for that.

Funny how he wasn't even angry at Snape's attempt at sabotage (now lying broken at his feet, along with a certain zero he would be sure to get for today's work), and so hardly needed to force his face into a beseeching expression. Snape's glare intensified as he glowered at Harry, unyielding.

"Professor Snape," Harry began softly, the man's title falling easily off his tongue for once, "I just wanted to say I am sorry for what happ…" He caught Snape's glare intensifying, but sauntered bravely on into stormy waters, "for what happened. I regret what I have done more than you can possibly imagine, mostly because that I now have to admit that you were right. _Sir._"

"Right about what, Potter?"

"My father and his friends were horrible bullies, sir. I realize that now. But if I could do it over again, I'd rather not have unquestioned knowledge of it, and just pretend that it was your way of making my life miserable by giving my dad unflattering epithets."

Snape just looked at him.

"I am sorry," Harry repeated quieter, looking directly into Snape's eyes, (If he uses Legilimency, he'd only see that I mean it, he tried to convince himself bravely), "and I understand why I am to receive a zero for today's potion. Sir. You are absolutely right. I should have acted better than I have. I regret that I did not. Sorry, sir."

His trainer crunched a shard of the phial and he took out his wand and vanished the mess – glass and ruined potion and all with an _Evanesco._

As there was really nothing to say to that, and as Snape continued to glare witheringly at him as though he was a disgusting bug he had been dissecting, Harry pocketed his wand and went to get his belongings. He and Snape were now the only two people remaining in the Potions classroom as Harry gathered his things together and made for the door.

Snape called him back. He looked subdued. But the malevolent glint in his eyes was absent, Harry noted. That, at least, was an improvement. Perhaps he realized I meant what I said.

"Mr. Potter. If you do not wish to have a permanent zero stand in for this day's work, I would be amenable to letting you re-do your potion. After supper. In this classroom."

It took Harry a while to realize that Snape was going to let him off with one night's worth of detention. Without taking points from Gryffindor. And let him make up the work. That zero he tried to give Harry wouldn't stand.

That was good, wasn't it?

He agreed right away. The day was not yet out, and Umbridge could still find fault with something and give him detention. Snape's detentions went miles to being more bearable and less painful than hers. Not that he was scared of Dolores Umbridge; but picturing the look on her face when she tried to give him detention for the same night... Harry grinned at the thought, causing Snape to frown at him.

Harry quickly smoothed his expression into politeness once more.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you Sir." He answered as politely as he could before Snape changed his mind. "I will see you later this evening, Sir."

"Eight o'clock, Mr. Potter."

With that, Harry turned and went out the door. He really was hungry, and he would need all of detention to get the potion right enough for a decent grade to stand in for that zero.

Snape called him back.

"Oh, and Potter? Ten points from Gryffindor for blatantly sucking up to a teacher."

Harry sighed. He'd walked right into that one. 

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

When Harry came to do his detention, he encountered another surprise. Snape could hardly be called unpleasant as he drew up the directions on the board and set Harry to get his ingredients from the potions cupboard.

And Snape did not ignore Harry either. In his own special way, of course.

He went a long way from being polite, of course, but Harry soon realized that if it weren't for Snape's timely (if rather caustic) commentary, the potion would have been Neville's shade of pink instead of the lavender that Harry managed to produce in the end.

Snape still sneered at it and told Harry that had he not added the nettle roots too late, his concoction (Snape's word) would have been the right shade of indigo that a perfectly-brewed potion such as this should be, but he still told Harry to bring the solution up to his desk, corked.

And he didn't smash it this time, either.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry told him sincerely.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned and went back to his professor.

"It seems I may have been...hasty in my decision concerning our lessons," Snape began thoughtfully, eyeing Harry up and down, as though measuring him up to a standard visible only to him. "You have still not mastered Occlumency to the degree that the Headmaster requires."

_That the Headmaster requires...?_ Harry thought he hadn't mastered it at all, from what he garnered from Snape. But he was still surprised to see Snape bringing it up. He did not think he'd want to resume teaching Harry after what Harry had done.

His surprise must have shown on his face, as Snape's lips quirked. "You are not a proficient Occlumens yet, Mr. Potter."

Harry didn't think he was. "And do you… still want to teach me? Sir?" He asked hastily. "You wouldn't mind?"

Snape did not answer the question. He just looked at Harry seriously as he told him, "It is important." The tip of his finger outlined his mouth as he considered Harry's question.

Harry did not argue and merely nodded his agreement. Occlumency was important, if Dumbledore said it was. And Harry would do better to try harder to get it right. Snape might not be willing to give third chances. 

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

Over the next weeks, Harry saw no more of Albus Dumbledore than he had this whole year, but it was clear that something between him and Snape had changed since Snape invited him back for Occlumency lessons.

Himself, for one. He found himself actively trying to clear his mind at night. The first time he did it Ron gave him a funny look, like Harry was mental for doing homework when it was time to sleep. And Harry couldn't say he got any good at clearing his mind; but his nightmares decreased, and even Ron noticed that he no longer had to shake Harry awake nearly as often for fear Harry would wake up the whole dorm with his nightly fits of screaming.

Occlumency didn't get easier, however. And heaven forefend Snape telling Harry he was actually _good_ at something.

And now Snape had apparently had it. It was late, and he had been getting inside Harry's thoughts with every _Legilimens_ he cast, and was now shoving his entire day's worth of dissatisfaction out on Harry. Apparently. What else could account for so much bile?

"We did this long enough, Potter," he snapped. "You should be able to block me before I even get inside your thoughts!"

"I am _trying,_" Harry hissed back at him. "But you are apparently too good for me to block you."

The compliment, if it even was that for the tone Harry used, seemed to miss Snape by the size of an entire Quidditch pitch.

"I am standing in front of you, Potter, casting the spell. Don't lose focus. You are not five years old, or running away from Dementors. There is no reason that you should be sucked into each and every memory I force you to relive." He smiled maliciously. "Unless you _miss_looking at Dementors. I daresay we have none with us at the school this year."

That was a blatant lie and Snape knew it. Harry did not enjoy looking at the blasted things.

Snape was being a prick. This shouldn't have rankled as it had, but it did.

"Ready, Potter?" He barked out.

"Yeah." Then, seeing Snape's glower, added a hasty, "Sir."

"Clear your mind, Potter," Snape repeated the command for the nth time tonight. "On the count of three."

If he opened his mouth, he was afraid Gryffindor might lose points, so Harry just nodded.

"One-Two-_Legilimens!_"

But the spell never hit Harry, and he had no idea what happened. He was just extremely pissed off at Snape for turning the session into what was impossibly close to torture, and Harry exploded.

Or his wand did.

A spell leapt off the end of it and sprang for Snape, whose eyes widened as it hit him, knocking him backwards into the bookshelf behind him. Snape was knocked off his feet and landed at the base of the bookshelf, showered with tomes of what looked like (moldy and) very thick Potions texts.

Shite. Oh shite. _This_ was certainly not going to improve Snape's mood towards Harry.

In one step he crossed Snape's office and was kneeling by his Potions professor, throwing all matter of books off him, then pulling Snape out from the rest once he unearthed the man enough to do so.

Shrugging out of his school robe, he bunched it up awkwardly and thrust it under Snape's head as a makeshift pillow. He touched the man's forehead. No reaction.

He reached for the Floo powder and was about to throw it into Snape's fireplace to call Madame Pomfrey, when Snape stirred and opened his eyes. His hands immediately went to his head and he moaned softly.

Harry put the Floo powder down. "Are you… alright, Sir?"

Snape did not turn his head to Harry. "Potter… are you responsible for my current state?"

Harry got ready for the imminent. "Yes sir. I knocked you into the shelves." I am sorry, he almost apologized, but he remembered that he couldn't have been all that sorry for it when he was facing Snape and wanted to do anything just to shut the man up.

Snape's mouth moved weakly. "I didn't read your thoughts this time..." He was smiling grimly, as though tasting something unpleasant. "Good job, Potter." His hand reached upwards, and without waiting to be asked Harry was pulling the man up to a standing position. Snape seemed a bit shaky so Harry decided he would not let go of Snape until his professor himself did. The hand that clutched Harry's arm was vice-like, but the grip loosened once Snape was upright once more.

"Are you alright, Sir?" Harry asked, worriedly. "Do you need...?"

"I have nothing more serious than a headache, Mr. Potter. One, I am pleased to announce, did not result from a show of your incompetence." He smiled, and had he not said what he did just now, Harry would've thought himself in loads of trouble. "On the contrary."

This was the second time Snape complimented Harry today. Clearly Harry managed to cause the man some sort of brain damage, the unexpected double praise being quite jarring.

He made to look at Snape and thank him, but apparently they got cross-referenced. Because when Harry's eyes met Snape's, his mouth met its counterpart on Snape's. Which would have been fine, but as Harry's had been open and was muttering "thanks," the phrase became garbled and sounding something like "thanarrgh," as Snape's tongue entered it. It was an accident.

Harry honestly had no idea where it came from.

He should have pulled away right then, and Snape should have jumped away from him like a scalded cat, but neither of them reacted appropriately under the circumstances. Snape had an excuse, perhaps, for not thinking rationally, as he received a good club to the head compliments of Harry, but Harry had no such convenience to blame his actions on.

And his actions insisted on pushing his body as close to his Potions Master's as possible while Snape's hand seemed to be making nice headway in winding through Harry's hair.

That and Snape was still kissing him. And Harry was not pulling away. In fact, his own tongue was doing a credible imitation of dancing with Snape's – if tongues danced, that is. (If they didn't, Harry wondered what in hell else this could be called). Though it may have possibly been the best kiss Harry had ever received. If it had been a kiss. Harry could not be sure. _This was Snape!_

A hard something was prodding him in the stomach as a firm thigh insinuated itself between his legs, and he was about to remark how good it felt against his cock, when suddenly the newly welcome thigh withdrew, and Snape, who had apparently gotten over his little bout of insanity, pulled his mouth off of Harry's, and, panting and flushed, attempted to disentangle himself from Harry.

"Potter... what're we...? Oh Merlin!" Harry's professor said softly and Harry felt himself pushed away from the body that had been so welcoming of his touches mere moments ago.

Snape had apparently pushed too hard, though, or else, in disentangling, the centre of balance that Snape was to Harry, had been roughly yanked away from him.

Harry fell. Onto his knees. In front of Snape.

A moan came from above him. "Potter," he beseeched, and for the first time ever, Snape sounded like he was pleading. "Get. Up."

Harry looked up at Snape. Snape's eyes were wide, staring down at Harry in a strange mixture of horror and revulsion, and it took Harry a while to realize that Snape. Was only looking into his eyes.

Harry himself had trouble fully seeing Snape's face as a shape was mere inches away from Harry's nose. And judging by the musky scent, that something was Snape's cock.

Neither of them was wearing robes. It had been a tiresome evening.

Which still did not explain why Snape was looking so fearfully down at Harry... Unless... Oh yes indeed. Snape was apparently quite well on into arousal, and if his prick was any more curved, he'd be able to use it for a coat hanger. _Woah. Snape's bigger than me,_ Harry realized. He should have felt insulted by the realisation, but all he wanted to do was to see Snape's prick without trousers getting in the way. Harry licked his lips.

"Potter," Snape whispered brokenly, "Get up. Please."

Harry had not been consciously looking for a situation that would literally put Snape up against the wall, but now that he was there… this chance was not going to come again. And if he let it pass, and actually obeyed Snape, Snape would make damn sure not to be caught with his trousers down again.

Harry smirked at the thought. Trousers down, eh? He never thought of it beyond the few things he was able to overhear, but now he very much wanted to catch Snape with his trousers down. That or he himself was as hard as Snape was. Possibly harder. Between himself and the Potions Master, Harry did have the better view at the moment.

Harry made a decision right then and there.

"No," he told his professor, and his hand inched slowly towards Snape's groin. Snape did not move; in fact, seemed as paralyzed as a mouse hypnotized by the undulating movements of the snake. He was decidedly looking into Harry's face and Harry's face only.

Harry cupped Snape's prick through his trousers, and he did not know Snape was capable of making _that_ noise! Snape half-keened, half-sobbed, his whole body taut as though holding himself back from something.

"Potter… we can't… please…" He whispered, looking down at Harry.

"Why can't we? I want to. Can I?" Harry made a move to undo the buttons of Snape's trousers.

If it were anything but a rhetorical question, and if Harry was actually waiting for Snape's go-ahead, well, he'd be on his knees before the man for a long time. So he did what he did best – plunged ahead, damning the consequences.

His fingers trembled as he found the buttons, undoing them enough to put his hand inside and pull out Snape's manhood. He wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Snape made a funny little noise when his cock was exposed to the air; the head of it already glistening with precome. Harry wanted to lick it.

Snape's hands were in the way; on Harry's shoulders, trembling, they seemed the last of the man's defenses that he could muster in the face of imminent defeat.

"Potter…" He begged.

"I want to do this, professor. And I will, unless you don't want me to," Harry told him firmly, eyeing the prick before him with evident interest.

"Potter, I don't wa-" he did not finish. Harry wasn't worried. It sounded like a lie anyway (what with the _real_ evidence right in front of Harry's face).

Because at that moment Harry _licked_ the head of Snape's cock and Snape moaned. Loudly. And forgot what he was going to say.

Which did not displease Harry in the slightest and he took this for not-quite-verbal permission to continue as he wrapped his mouth around the head of his cock.

At the contact, every ounce of self-restraint that Snape had used to push himself as far away from Harry as he could, was upended as he, now quite enthusiastically, thrust himself into Harry's welcoming mouth. At first his hands went to the back of Harry's head, but he quickly forced them away and instead threaded them into Harry's hair, obviously deeming it the safer position for a reason known only to Snape.

Harry did not mind; at least, not by the noises he was making through a mouth full of Snape's cock. Being on his knees did not feel nearly as uncomfortable as did his prick, trapped inside his own trousers, and rubbing frustratingly against the material. Harry wanted to rub it against something else.

_This won't take long,_ Harry hoped. _I have to be the best-looking bloke he's had in… well, scratch that. He just hoped Snape was gay enough to enjoy the experience._

That thought would have forced a laugh out of Harry, but given his current preoccupation, it resulted in a strange rumbling sound that caused Snape to tense and the fingers in Harry's hair clenched almost painfully on Harry's head.

"Potter... I'm... I'm..." came the warning above Harry's head.

_Considerate of you,_Harry thought smugly, but did not release Snape's cock from his mouth. Nor did he when he felt Snape tense, then still, then gasp and begin to come. Harry did let up slightly, so that he had better access to Snape's spurting cock, as he sucked up every drop of Snape's welcome offering all the way through Snape's orgasm.

Eventually Snape stopped shuddering, and those long fingers threaded out of Harry's hair, almost, Harry thought, reluctantly.

Wordlessly, Snape pushed Harry backwards until Harry's knees hit the back of Snape's desk. Just as wordlessly, Snape undid Harry's own trousers and pushed them and Harry's pants down to his knees, while urging Harry to sit on his desk as he returned the favour.

Either Snape was better at it or Harry was less experienced, but it took almost no time at all until Harry shot his own come down Snape's throat. Even more surprising, Harry thought as he felt Snape's throat working and realized that the man was returning the same favour in another way as well – he swallowed everything; then he helped Harry to stand and even did up his trousers. Harry looked mournfully at Snape's hands doing up his pants; Snape did not respond, but it seemed that he was now dressing himself with more determination than ever, as though he hated the very idea of being that vulnerable before Harry. He even donned his robes, the equivalent of putting on a ski suit in the Sahara as far as the stuffy office was concerned.

When Harry dared to look at Snape, the Potions Master was frowning.

"That shouldn't have happened," he said at long last, looking calculatingly at Harry.

Harry did not agree. "It was brilliant," he said. And dared a grin at Snape. "And we should definitely do it again," he smirked.

Snape scowled at him. "This will not be repeated, Potter." He crossed his arms over his chest, and with the trailing over robes, looked quite bat-like, especially looming over Harry as he was.

Harry's cock twitched.

"I'll tell Dumbledore," he threatened. The threat worked. Snape paled.

"It… it was consensual. You are just as guilty as I." But he did not look as though he believed it.

Harry wasn't really going to bring Dumbledore in on it, but he wasn't about to tell Snape that. At least until such a time as he needed to hold nothing over his head in exchange for more sex. With Snape. Harry actually _wanted_ more sex with Snape. What's next? He didn't actually want to know (unlike the _sex with Snape!_).

"Alright, then," Harry commiserated falsely, and saw that Snape was not comforted by his words. "I _won't_ tell. But only if we do this again."

Snape said nothing.

"Anything you want," it was now Harry's turn to beg. "Another quickie like this one. Or you could fuck me. Over your desk." His cock definitely jumped at the idea this time. He hoped Snape's did too. "Or on a bed. Or anything you want really."

"Anything I want?" Snape had the audacity to smirk. He cupped Harry's chin in his hand.

"Y-yeah. Anything."

"What I _want_, Potter, is for you to learn Occlumency so that your mind is no longer open to the wandering thoughts of the Dark Lord." He held Harry's gaze, and for one wild moment, Harry thought he was going to kiss him.

"I can do that," Harry panted. "But what will you give _me_ if I learn it?"

Snape's lips curled. "I am well aware of what you want. I wanted the same thing when I was your age."

"So can we-?"

"We shall see," Snape said mysteriously, then apparently had a change of heart as he added, "how your Occlumency lessons go. Dismissed."

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder and looked back at Snape, sitting behind his desk now and looking for all intents and purposes completely absorbed in a potions journal.

He was holding it upside down.

"Goodnight, professor," Harry smiled.

Snape offered nothing except a grunt and a frown.

Harry turned and left Snape's office. There could still be hope.

If he knew a spell stronger than _Imperius._

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

That night Harry had a strange dream. It was a dream, he was certain of it, for his dreams differed from Voldemort's thoughts simply by making absolutely no sense. Voldemort's, at least, always followed some sort of pattern.

This one was not like that.

He was in the Great Hall, looking at Cho standing under the largest Christmas tree wearing a dark blue checkered night shirt and smiling at him. Her arms came out and she was beckoning him closer, and when he went up to her, her arms went around his neck and she kissed him. Her mouth was warm and welcoming, and it was the best kiss they ever shared. Suddenly she grabbed his hands, and Harry saw that her fingers were long and potions-stained, and as she pushed him away, her long, greasy black hair swished across his cheek.

"Potter, we cannot do this," she told him coldly in a man's voice, turned, and went out of the Great Hall, her black robes swishing around her and making her look positively nocturnal.

Frankly, he was freaked out. Why should he dream of Cho Chang, of all people, and now, of all times? He was gay, he knew that, and whatever minuscule resemblance to a man Cho_might have had,_ to put bluntly, she was just not that good-looking. Rather raccoon-like, actually. The girl was soggier than a wet nappy.

He was out of sorts with himself all morning, and although Ron did not seem to notice, Hermione gave him questioning looks all through History of Magic.

He hoped Snape wouldn't notice. Then remembered that he had no Potions today and nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but… no Snape today. No Potions.

And Harry almost acting like he was looking forward to it.

It was unexplainable. Harry only ever saw Snape in Potions class and Occlumency lessons. And mealtimes, he supposed. If he raised his eyes at the staff table, Snape would be steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with him, focusing exclusively on his meal (even though he picked at it about as much as he ate it these days, Harry though maliciously). But still Harry'd be able to just make out the sneer curling Snape's thin (delicious, kissable- STOP!) mouth… what could possibly be better?

His inner voice was starting to sound disturbingly sarcastic to be Harry Potter's Inner Voice. He hoped it wouldn't show.

When he tried to make it so they bumped into each other on the way out, Snape would glower at him and push forwards, refusing to acknowledge Harry beyond the door stop that he was as he barreled unceremoniously past Harry and quickly made his way to his dungeons.

Stupid git! And it was two more days until he would see the man face to face yet. Snape couldn't ignore him during Occlumency lessons.

Though Harry had no idea what he would say to Snape if he got the chance. 

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

The ignoring has permeated sneakily into the Potions lessons as well, Harry thought grimly, as he carried his ingredients back to the table to start work on the day's potion. The directions were up on the board, and, as usual, Snape was prowling the desks looking to take off points for ignorance. But he was nowhere near Harry, who should have been Snape's primary victim, paired as today he was with Neville.

He hoped the distribution of work would make them more efficient, when he lowered his hand from chopping up the frog's liver, the knife at its side. It didn't matter. Harry didn't care about Potions. All he wanted was to fuck Snape.

Then again, Harry smiled grimly to himself, if he messed the potion, Snape would have no choice. He would _have_ to come and talk to Harry, even if to do no more than sneer and take points, but a reason nonetheless…so….

"Neville," Harry pushed the frog entrails at him, coming to a sudden decision, "add these now."

"Harry, are you sure? That's not until step four," came the worried response.

"Trust me." Harry waved a hand over the ingredients.

BOOM!

Wow.

Harry had no idea that frog's liver was so aerodynamic. Something to tell Fred and George later, he supposed.

As predicted, Snape came down on them like a fly on shite.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," came Snape's voice above his and Neville's head, and, as Harry looked up, Snape seemed to throw him a glare that said, _I know what you are doing._"Your grade will not be as high as the entrails flying out of your potion." Harry heard Malfoy snicker behind Snape's back. Bastard. "I expected better from you, Potter. You will come to my office tonight to do your detention. 8 o'clock." Snape turned on his heel and made his way back to the front of his class.

"For those of you whose potion did not suffer the same fate as Potter's and Longbottom's, bring it up to the front in a stoppered flask. But if said potion is any colour other than lime green, you may want to save yourselves the trouble. Zero for any variation from the colour scheme." He paused, looking pointedly at Harry as he said his next phrase. "For homework those of you who failed will write twenty-four inches on the properties of frog liver, and why it should never be exploded out of _any_ potion along with the consequences of such foolishness."

Damn it. 

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

"You are becoming proficient at Occlumency, Mr. Potter," Snape told Harry after their Occlumency lesson, oddly subdued. "The Headmaster would like to meet with you."

"What for?" Harry blurted out.

Snape glared at him, but answered the question.

"If he deems you proficient, these lessons will no longer be necessary," he told Harry, running an index finger over his mouth reflexively.

Harry's insides felt leaden. He'd never see Snape again… not except for meals and Potions classes, where he was going to be ignored indefinitely. The frog entrails were gone but not forgotten.

He raised panicked eyes at Snape, and saw Snape smirking at him.

"You should be thrilled, Potter. You will at last be rid of me."

But Harry didn't want to be free of Snape. Nor have Snape be free of him. He wanted Snape tied to him. Bound and gagged and…

He went around the desk so fast it was as though he were chased by a Dementor, and before Snape could do more than step back, Harry was upon him. Harry leaned his head forward.

He saw Snape's eyes widen as a hand insinuated itself over Harry's mouth. "No, Potter."

Harry pulled Snape's hand away from his mouth, but held onto it. He didn't lean forward further, though.

"Why not?"

"You know very well why not."

"Because you don't want to?"

"Yes. Because I don't want to."

"Liar."

Snape glared at him.

Harry smiled at him. "Liar, _sir,_" Harry cheeked. "Are you afraid of me?"

Snape spluttered. "I don't know what got into your-"

Harry pounced on him. Still holding one of Snape's hands in his, he brought his mouth to cover Snape's, effectively cutting off the impending tirade. His other went around behind Snape, pulling him close.

Snape wrenched his hand out of Harry's and pushed him away. "WE WILL NOT DO THIS, POTTER!" He bellowed. "Do that again and you will be scrubbing the toilets until the end of term with none but Filch's cat for company!"

Harry paled. "No, I… I only wanted…" He made to move closer to Snape, but Snape stepped sideways so that his desk's whole length was between them.

"Get out." Snape's tone held no malice at all; and it did not frighten Harry. Neville might have asked what Harry's secret was, but he'd probably refuse to have a crush on Snape just to stop fearing him.

Harry fled. 

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

School was torture. Not only had Snape not resumed their lessons, but he apparently did tell Dumbledore that Harry completed his lessons with him as Dumbledore met with Harry and pronounced the lessons with Snape no longer necessary.

He was also banned from Quidditch along with Fred and George, compliments of Dolores Umbridge, along with detention every single night. He supposed it didn't make that much difference, as he wouldn't be seeing Snape more often anyway – and even if he did, the man seemed adamant to cling to his new policy of staying-away-from-Harry-as-though-Harry-had-the-Plague.

He had nothing better to do with his evenings; and now even the evenings dedicated to Occlumency became dedicated to Umbridge instead.

He was making his slow and tired trek back to the Gryffindor dorms after another grueling session with Harry's esteemed Defense professor, this one extra long because Umbridge believed "the message was not sinking in yet," as she so gloatingly told him, _the miserable toad._His hand hurting and bleeding, Harry looked up and saw Snape up ahead of him.

Snape, who was walking in Harry's direction. A Snape who made it perfectly clear that he didn't want to see Harry. It was late enough to be points too, never mind that Harry had a legitimate reason for being out of the dorms at this late hour. And plus, Snape would be sure to catch a glimpse of Harry's bloody hand… _shite!_

Harry hastily wiped the back of his hand on the inside of his robes as Snape came within sight of him. But Harry needn't have worried – Snape was dead on his feet and hardly saw what was in front of him let alone Harry as Harry caught up with his Potions Master.

He would be making his way down just a step before Harry, but as they reached the steps, Snape stumbled and would have taken the entirety of the stairs with his bum had Harry not caught his elbow and pulled the man back, stepping back in the process. Snape ended up flush against Harry's chest, and after all this time since that fateful Occlumency lesson, it felt entirely too good. Even through their robes, Snape felt so warm that Harry hardly noticed it when he put his arms around Snape's waist and just stood there, at the foot of the steps, chest to chest with his Potions professor. And he did not step back.

"I know what you are doing, Potter," came the Potions Master's voice, "and it will not work. Let me go." He sounded much more awake than he looked a moment ago.

"You nearly fell off the stairs, _sir,_" Harry told him, stepping back reluctantly. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Snape answered, rubbing his left forearm absently. It was remarkably close to Harry's left hand now that he was no longer hugging Snape. _Snape would see…_! He quickly hid it behind Snape's back, hoping that Snape didn't see the droplets of blood on the back of Harry's palm.

Snape would have doubtlessly pulled Harry's arm out and exposed him, had Harry not fastened it behind Snape's back resolutely and caught his mouth with his own.

Snape's lips felt cold and unresponsive against his as he pulled them off of Harry's.

"I want this," Harry whispered against Snape's mouth. "Please, professor."

Snape pulled away from Harry completely. "In the middle of the stairs?" He asked sardonically.

"If that's what it takes," Harry told him bluntly. "If I can't have you anywhere else…"

Snape was backing away from Harry now, moving towards the top step.

"You _can't_ have me _anywhere,_ Potter! There's no 'else' about it! Because we can't do this anywhere! I-"

His foot missed the top step and this time Snape _was_ falling down the stairs. Harry only saw his widened eyes as his nose collided with the top step and he fell, rolling down the stairs. Glaring at Harry.

It was a long way down and Harry didn't know any cushioning charms.

Thinking fast, Harry pulled out his wand and aimed it at his hapless professor.

"_Accio_ Snape!" Harry yelled.

Well, on the one hand, it worked.

Instead of falling away from Harry, Snape now zoomed up the stairs, ploughing the stairs up as he just did down (with his nose too, Harry winced inwardly), then knocked into Harry and sent them both flying into the wall under the spell's momentum.

Harry heard a sickening crack as his head hit something hard and unyielding, and he had the vague thought of something black and heavy landing on top of him before consciousness escaped him. 

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

He woke up to the familiar smell of medications and realized he must have been in the Hospital Wing. Harry opened his eyes.

Snape was glaring down at him.

"That was very foolish, Potter," he spat at him.

Harry asked for water. It came out as a weak sounding croak, and he didn't add "please" or "sir" to it, but Snape shoved a glass almost gently into his hand. Despite the dark looks, it was almost as though Snape cared.

Harry downed it in one gulp.

"Thank you."

Snape took the glass from him and set it on the nightstand beside the bed.

He grinned at Snape, and winced at the pain in his head.

"You fractured your skull, Potter," Snape told him acidly. "Don't do such a stupid thing again."

"Wasn't more stupid than you falling down the stairs," Harry muttered.

"You Summoned me, Potter! With the wall behind you! What did you _think_ would happen? That I would just _stop_ right in front of you, regardless of the magical momentum?" Snape continued to gripe at him.

And it hit Harry. Though not as painfully as the wall.

"Are _you_ alright?" Harry looked him up and down, worriedly. He hoped he didn't make Snape hit the wall as well. It was very painful.

"I am fine. I had my very own Potter cushion to break _my_ fall."

"Glad I can be useful," Harry cheeked, then added, seeing Snape's expression darken to murder. "So nobody brought us in here?" It would be horrible if somebody saw Snape lying on top of him at the foot of the stairs. Worse if it had been Umbridge.

"I brought you here, Potter."

"Thank you," Harry smiled at Snape.

"You already said that."

"And I meant it that time, too."

"I'll let you have your rest now." Snape turned. "Goodnight. You are not excused from class tomorrow. _However_ early it is." It was mere coincidence that Harry's first class tomorrow was Potions.

And that was it. Snape was leaving. Harry called him back. Snape stopped, but did not turn back.

"Don't make me _Accio_ you back here, professor."

Snape made his way back to Harry's bedside, glowering down at him the whole way.

"Can a dying patient get a good night kiss?" He pouted up at Snape.

"You are hardly dying, Potter," Snape sniped at him. But he acquiesced.

Harry received the least romantic, most brotherly peck to his forehead before Snape turned and briskly left the Hospital Ward with a snapped "Pomfrey will check up on you in the morning, Potter. Try not to move your head too much until then."

At least Snape didn't just leave him injured. Surely that counted for something. 

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

By morning Harry's head completely healed over, and Madame Pomfrey threw him out of the Hospital Wing in no uncertain terms, chastising Harry for his foolishness of trying to walk down the stairs with his eyes closed. So _that's_ what Snape told her. _Apparently it's not enough that he himself thinks me an idiot, but everyone else must as well._

The truth was overrated anyway; not to mention could be overheard by the not-quite-well-meaning ears of one hag of a certain Defense professor.

Potions class was long since over and everyone was currently in the Great Hall, having supper. He had no Umbridge detention today, and had specifically checked his Map when he saw that Snape did not show up at the Great Hall.

Snape was in his office.

This was now where Harry was. In front of the door.

"Potter," Snape groaned when he opened his door. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He said, sounding as though he was being quartered.

"I am not leaving."

"No, I didn't dare hope you would."

"Not until you tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why not, Snape?"

Snape looked into the hallway behind Harry, making sure that he was alone, then stepped aside so that Harry could enter inside past him, closing the door once more. Their hands brushed as Harry moved past the doorway. Snape's curled into a fist.

"I have told you why not, Potter." He didn't even offer Harry to sit down.

"No, you didn't. I believe what you said was that it would not be repeated."

"Isn't that enough?"

"No."

"It should be."

"I want it to be."

"Then you should get used to disappointment, shouldn't you?"

"_Damn it,_ Snape! You promised!"

"Did I?"

"Yes." Firmly. He is angry. "If I learned Occlumency, we could…"

"_If_ you learned Occlumency…?"

"And I did! I know it!"

"Do you now?" Snape was smirking at Harry.

"Yes! I do."

"Then you wouldn't mind a small test of your impressive talents."

"What? Dumbledore already tested me and you bloody well know it!"

Snape merely smiled and faced Harry more fully. "I _did_ promise, did I not?" He drawled. And it would be a shame to renege on a promise…"

Harry barely had time to get his wand out before Snape leveled his own and whispered_Legilimens_ as they were both falling into a vortex of Harry's memories.

Harry had no intention of blocking Snape. Today had been a good day and he wanted Snape to know exactly how he spent it.

In the Gryffindor dorms in the morning. In the back of the History of Magic classroom when everyone was so out of it from Binns's droning voice that they would hardly notice Voldemort if he dropped on their heads, let alone one student quietly wanking in the back of the classroom.

Oh, and in the Great Hall during lunch. With an Invisibility Cloak draped conveniently over his lap.

He let Snape see everything. Harry had nothing to hide.

But Snape did not react as Harry had hoped he would. He pulled out of Harry's mind rather abruptly, and was not sporting _anything_ that looked like a look of lust on his face.

He was flushed, however, but to Harry it looked more like he was extremely angry at Harry over something. Harry knew that look; Snape looked at him like that quite often prior to their resumed Occlumency lessons.

"That is completely unacceptable, Potter!" He hissed.

Unacceptable. What was unacceptable was this damn table between them, Harry thought bitterly, but he said nothing.

"Why didn't you block me, Potter?" Snape pressed on. "After all our lessons, I would assume you'd realize that that was what the point of Occlumency was."

"No."

"Excuse me? What did you say?"

Damned if Harry's surname did not sound like a hex coming out of Snape's mouth.

"I wouldn't dream of blocking you. Sir."

"Potter!"

"I _am_ sorry." Harry amended too quickly for sincerity. "What I meant to say was that I wouldn't dream of blocking _you._ Sir."

"And why not?"

"I have no secrets from you, _professor._"

"And would you give the dark lord the same forthrightness?" Snape asked sardonically.

"No sir."

"I want to see what you would do if the dark lord were before you, Potter."

"He would be dead already."

"Arrogant as ever, I see."

"No, Snape. But you're not Voldemort."

"Don't say the name!"

"Voldemort! Voldemort! VOLDEMORT!"

Snape growls and lunges at Harry, but Harry neatly outmaneuvers him and plants his mouth on Snape's, _licking_ Snape. Snape really has no right to be this tasty.

Snape's mouth is barely an inch from Harry's when he whispers quietly, "block me, Harry."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry whispers back into Snape's mouth and captures that angry mouth with his in a real kiss.

"You must. Show me how you would block the Dark Lord," Snape tries again when they pull apart, panting.

"You'll just have to trust me." Harry's mouth connects with Snape's once more. "Trust me that I can block Voldemort from my mind."

"And what of our deal?" Snape is relentless.

"You can trust me," Harry smiles and Snape can feel it against his own mouth.

"And what of my part of the deal, Harry?" Snape makes an effort at pulling away from Harry and Harry is impatient. Snape should not be able to do that. If Harry did everything right… _Damn it!_

Harry leaned into the space Snape was attempting to create to separate them. He smiled. "I would say you are fulfilling it wonderfully if…"

"If?"

"If you don't stop now." Harry's hands have somehow made it underneath Snape's shirt, pulling it from his trousers.

Snape lunged.

And Harry caught him, wrapping his arms around the Potions Master, fingers playing along Snape's skin underneath the shirt, and sending shivers of excitement through Harry. Snape. Naked. Mmmm. 

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

**Epilogue**

Harry never was lured to the Department of Mysteries; he never saw what Voldemort so wanted him to see to get him to the Prophecy Room.

The Order of the Phoenix strengthened their watch on the Department of Mysteries after the attack on Arthur Weasley, believing that Voldemort wanted something from there. It was Dumbledore's idea.

Dumbledore had been right and a confrontation ensued between Order members (minus one Severus Snape) and Death Eaters (ditto) that resulted in Voldemort being revealed to the Ministry specifically and the Wizarding world in general.

Sirius Black either got killed in the confrontation by Bellatrix LeStrange, or was not present as Harry was in no danger and lived on.

He has almost accepted Harry's relationship with his Potions Master.

Dumbledore was forced to share his Horcrux theory not only with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but also Sirius (if he lives) and Severus. They will be accompanying Harry on his mission to destroy all of them.

Because Sirius (if he lives) proved to be just as tenacious as Ron and Hermione, who refused to abandon Harry on what proved to be one hell of a mission.

It was going to be a long year.

**hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss**

Notes:

The first line is a direct quote from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, "Careers Advice" chapter (British version, adult).

This is an amalgam of everything I have ever liked about snarry fanfic. All my favorite parts of every snarry I've ever read. Scary. There's so much I love. Why isn't this longer? =)

And Snape running a finger over his mouth… It's canon. I believe it's in OotP, first Occlumency lesson Harry has with Snape. I liked it. It is weird. It's a Snape thing. And it makes Snape look really gay. :P

Who actually cares about _Fantastic Beasts_ or _Quidditch Through the Ages_, anyway? I want to read the HBP's _Advanced Potions_ textbook. :-)


End file.
